Where was I...
Friday, 4/4
I got up and tried to use the internet at The Beachhouse. I hadn't read e-mail in a week and needed to check with Air New Zealand regarding my flight out of Fiji. The connection was slow to the point of being unusable. I decided that I was fed up with the place and decided to check out early and head to Suva--Fiji's largest city.
I caught the bus on the road and we were on our way. It was very relaxing until about an hour into the ride when the driver turned on the radio. The crappy 80's pop tunes it was spitting out was not a welcome change from the quiet ride. Fortunately, the radio burned up in a puff of white smoke a few minutes later and we had silence the rest of the way. At first, I didn't know what had happened. The driver pulled over to the side, and I thought he was picking up more passengers. The people in the front of the bus started getting out, and I couldn't figure out why, because we were in the middle of nowhere. Then I saw the puff of smoke and smelled the burnt plastic. When people saw what had happened, everybody started smirking. After a few minutes of fiddling by the driver, we were back on the road, sans Michael Jackson and Air Supply.
When I got to Suva, I afforded myself the luxury of a taxi to the place I wanted to stay. It was only a couple of blocks away, but I didn't have a map. I checked into a private room (another luxury) in a nice old house that had been converted to a bed and breakfast/hostel. No private bathroom, but hey, this is budget travel.I walked around town, grabbed a tasty lunch at an Indian restaurant, stopped by the Air New Zealand office, went to the supermarket, and went home for a lie down. Unfortunately, I fell asleep about 7:30, woke up way too late for dinner, and read for a while before going back to sleep.
Saturday, 4/5
I woke up about 6am and knew something was wrong. By 6:30, my fears were concerned. The inevitable had happened--I had gotten travelers' diarrhea. I took my cipro and my immodium and stayed in the house all day, afraid to leave. (Many of you probably remember cipro as the anti-anthrax drug. It is also the antibiotic prescribed for travelers' diarrhea. Fortunately, I got some before I left the US.) That pretty much shot any plans to go to another Fiji island before I leave, which is too bad because some of my fellow travellers recommended a good one.
By a little after 3:00, I had to leave the house to get something to eat. I had been waiting until I had made another trip to the bathroom, so I could quickly go out and get back before the next one was needed. The next trip to the bathroom didn't come after 6 hours, so I figured I just needed to make a run for it. (I got stuck eating at KFC since the only other places open were ones that served food out of buffet warmers--breeding grounds for bacteria.) It's now been 9 hours without a bathroom run--much better than when I was in Mexico. FYI, travelers' diarrhea takes 3 days to incubate, so I caught it on the island--which does not surprise me at all since I ended up drinking their cistern water.
So that brings you up to date, in more gory detail than I'm sure you wanted. Time to grab another bite to eat and head home before nature calls again.
Later,
Sid
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